


Reflection

by Missy



Category: Galavant (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, Dark, Drabble, Gen, Riches to Rags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 04:29:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5115761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Madalena was the queen once.</p><p>Not that anyone believes her now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zerrat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zerrat/gifts).



“Did I ever tell you I was a queen?”

Edwynne barely looked up from her laundry. “Pft. And I’m Queen Isabella’s bloody footstool.” 

Madalena’s jaw ticked, a touch tighter. “Don’t mention her name around me.” She bent over her washboard, continuing to scrub her three-times mended cloak.

Boredom kept her mind alight. A glance around her confirmed that the world remained as dull and unchanged as it was the day before; stick houses surrounded her, greasepaper windows filtering the weak autumn sunlight onto her dirt smudged face, muddy pathways stretching from one end of the village to the other. The geeseheard drove a stream of birds by the wellstream, and she knew there would be a week of beheading and plucking ahead of her. 

It’s a feast year. The Queen had been delivered of a son, and the world had been in celebration mode ever since. Everyone but Madalena, who remembered well that she’d endured for their happy ending.

“I was the queen,” she insisted to Edswynn. “Don’t you remember? I forced everyone in the kingdom to dye their hair red for a month.”

No recognition lingered in the woman’s eyes. “God’s bones,” Edwynne said, spitting cheese through her gapped teeth. “Be quiet! Prattle on like that and you ain’t gonna be able to nail a husband.”

Madalena’s hands sink back into the hot suds. 

 

***

 

At night she stares into the mirror and the woman on the other side grinned back, wreathed in jewels and fine purple silk, encouraging the chaos in her heart. 

She was the queen

Is the queen still.

She’ll go to her grave saying that.


End file.
